


Sweet as Cake

by annabagnell



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Belly Kink, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink, belly stuffing, delicious chocolate cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabagnell/pseuds/annabagnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's concerned about his weight and decides to skip dessert. Sherlock decides otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet as Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consultinghomosexual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultinghomosexual/gifts).



> For a prompt by consulting-homosexual. :)

"Cake, John?" Sherlock asked, cutting a slice and holding it out in offer. John's mouth started to water; he'd only had a salad for dinner and was still hungry. He wanted the cake so badly - no, he did _not,_ he did _not_ want the cake, the cake would make him fatter than he already was. He shook his head morosely, stabbing a leftover sliver of limp lettuce and holding it up in front of his mouth. 

"No, I'm…I'm full. Thanks, though." The baby in his belly kicked as if in protest, trying to tell its father that it, too, wanted the cake, but John tamped down his desire for the rich chocolate confection and set his fork down, pushing his plate away. 

"Suit yourself," Sherlock responded, quirking an eyebrow briefly before setting it down on his own plate and taking a bite. He ate half the piece in silence, torturing John with the noises of pleasure he made as he took each bite, humming in satisfaction. "Certain you don't want any?" he asked, pausing with a forkful of cake halfway between the plate and his mouth. It was just at eye level with John; if he leaned forward he could steal it from the fork and _then_ who'd be humming? 

He shook his head, and the baby kicked again in protest. "Why don't you want cake, John?" Sherlock asked, sounding genuinely curious. "Mrs Hudson baked it just for you. She knows how much you love a good, sweet buttercream icing." 

John groaned quietly as Sherlock put the fork in his mouth, licking the aforementioned frosting almost seductively from the tines. "I _do_ want the cake. I love cake. Especially chocolate. But…" he made a frustrated noise, sitting back in his chair. Sherlock looked up. 

"But what?" 

"But I'm already fat enough," John responded irritably, gesturing sharply at his distended middle. "I'm the size of a house." 

"You're pregnant. Not fat," Sherlock reasoned, taking another forkful. 

"God, would you…stop doing that? You're making me even more hungry," John complained. "And I know I'm pregnant, it's not really fat, but that doesn't help how I feel, does it? I mean, look at me! I have to waddle everywhere, I'm practically bursting out of my trousers and shirts…and yeah, the cake looks great, I'm sure Mrs Hudson meant well but I just don't want to get any fatter, okay? I see the way you look at me, like you're disgusted with how fat I've gotten." John finished his monologue angrily and tried to heave himself out of the chair, but his belly was in the way. 

"Oh, John," Sherlock chided, laying a hand on his husband's. "As per usual, your deductive reasoning skills leave something to be desired." 

John huffed. "Yeah, go on then. Tell me what important detail I've got wrong this time." 

"I don't look at you in disgust because you've gotten fat - which you haven't, you've just gotten pregnant. I look at you because you just might be…" he paused for dramatic effect, wiping frosting from the corner of his mouth - "You just might be the most attractive man I've ever seen." 

"Sod off," John growled, trying once more to hoist himself up and leave the kitchen. To his great dismay, his swollen belly kept him firmly planted in his chair. He was effectively pinned until Sherlock decided to have mercy and get him to his feet. 

"You think I'm joking." John huffed, pulled his hand away, and crossed both arms on top of his belly. "Oh, I'm not joking, John. Seeing you, all round and heavy with my baby - it's not off-putting in the least. It's all I can do to keep my hands off your stomach." 

John turned his head to look at Sherlock in disbelief. "You're taking the piss." 

"Absolutely not. I look at you every day and see how big you've grown with my baby, and find myself wishing you'd get bigger. Grow larger and larger until you're so heavy, so swollen that you can't get around without my help. It's the most arousing thing I've ever thought of. So please," Sherlock finished, swiping a finger through the icing of his dessert, "Won't you eat the cake?" 

* * *

 

John licked his lips in satisfaction as he finished the slice of cake. "That was actually really good, Sherlock, thank you." He held his arms out in signal for Sherlock to pull him to his feet, but instead of warm hands on his he felt a cool fork placed once more in his palm. "No, I finished the slice, I'm fine. Really. I don't need to eat any more." 

"Oh, I know you don't need to eat any more, but you want to." Sherlock's voice was low and sultry. 

"Right, but if I do eat another slice I really will get fat, and that's not me being facetious, that's caloric intake versus output. Come on, help me up." John set the fork down and held his arm up again. 

"No, I really think you need another slice of cake," Sherlock replied, setting another thick slice in front of the man. "Go on, all you had for dinner was a salad. You can have more cake." 

"Sherlock, at some point you're going to have to come to terms with the fact that some people deny themselves simple pleasures for the greater good. This is one of those times. Now _please help me up."_

"Not until you finish the cake." 

John heaved a sigh and picked up the fork, scooting his chair back around and wincing at the sound of chair legs against worn lino. He took several big bites, and in less than two minutes his plate was once again cleared. "There. Help me up." 

"Oh look, more cake." Another slice, twice as thick as the last, was laid down in front of him. 

"Sherlock, I didn't need the second piece, I certainly don't need _or want_ the third piece." There was no response, and John twisted around in his chair to look at his husband. "Are you trying to make me fat?" he asked, taking in Sherlock's wicked facial expression. 

"Nooooo, not at all. I'm just trying to feed you the whole cake." 

"The whole - Sherlock, no! That's ridiculous. There's no way I could eat a whole cake, and besides, that's disgustingly unhealthy. No, I'll slide off the chair and crawl to the couch if I have to but I am not eating the whole cake." John started to inch his way off the seat, but Sherlock caught him by the arm. He glared and tried to pull away, but Sherlock's grip was gentle but strong, holding him in place. 

"Please, John? Just this once, for me?" John shook his head, but Sherlock persisted. "I know you're still hungry. And I know you love chocolate cake. And I know that it's possible for you to eat a whole cake, because you've done it before." John looked down, ashamed. He didn't know how Sherlock had found out about his stress-induced binges, but it wasn't something he liked to dwell on. He always felt fat and lethargic afterwards, even if during the binge itself he felt incredibly satisfied. He turned his focus back to Sherlock, who was looking at John intently. 

"Why do you want to see me get fat?" John asked quietly.

"I don't want to see you get fat. One little cake isn't going to make you fat. The doctor said you were underweight, anyhow. And I just want to feed you. I want to see you get full, until your stomach is stretched and sore, and then see you eat more. I want to see your belly get bigger, until it looks like you're overdue. I want to see your belly bulge out of your jumper, until your clothes are too tight to fit. Just this once. Wouldn't that make you feel sexy, John?" 

John had to admit that the idea of glutting on a whole cake, eating the whole thing himself, his belly growing as he watched until it stretched his jumpers, was sexy. And…and just this once, it wouldn't hurt, would it?

Sherlock must have seen his weakening resolve, as he picked up the fork and took a large cut of the slice, holding it up to John's mouth. With a tentative grin, John leaned forward, belly heavy on his lap, and took the bite. 

* * *

 

It was nearly an hour later when John polished off the first half of the cake, and leaned back with a grunt. His trousers were growing tight, the elastic belly band stretching close to its limit and pushed low. And his jumper - his jumper was snug too, holding his belly like a too-tight hug. He moaned and rubbed at his stomach, looking at Sherlock with a wan smile. The last time he'd eaten this much in one sitting, he certainly wasn't eight months pregnant, and he certainly wasn't staring at half a double-layer chocolate-fudge-with-buttercream-icing cake still left to eat. 

"You can do it, John. It's just half a cake. You've still got room, haven't you?" Sherlock grinned, cutting another slice. "Go on. Open up." 

John opened his mouth and let Sherlock feed him the cake, dutifully chewing and swallowing every bite. His stomach gurgled in protest, sending signals to his brain that it was full, that he didn't need to eat any more. John pushed down the feeling of fullness and finished the slice, rubbing his belly as he swallowed each bite. 

Two more slices passed in this manner, until John's jumper finally gave up the battle and slid over his protruding belly button and came to rest bunched up on the top curve of his stomach. He groaned and held his belly, the pressure on his stomach eased slightly but still feeling uncomfortably full. "Sherlock…" 

"Ready for more?" Sherlock didn't let him finish the sentence, just pulled the cake itself towards where they sat and cut a forkful directly off, feeding it into John's mouth. The baby, who had stilled when John had the first slice of his dessert, now started to move again, apparently upset that his or her home was being encroached upon by John's engorged stomach. He grunted as a kick landed square on his stomach, and had to bring a hand up to his mouth to guard against the cake that might try to make a reappearance. 

To John's immense relief, the cake stayed down, and he opened his mouth for another bite, groaning as the sweet confection passed his lips and he swallowed. Sherlock's hand joined his own in rubbing his belly, stretching incrementally with each bite of cake he added to the mass already in his stomach. 

At some point, the pain in his stomach crested and dissipated, and John found it easier to take each bite. But when he reached the final slice, he looked down at his belly, sitting heavier in his lap now, and groaned. "Sherlock, I don't know…" 

"Whether you'll be full after this? I know, John, but we'll have more tomorrow if you'd like." Sherlock quipped, and took another forkful and put it in John's mouth. 

John heaved a sigh of relief as Sherlock fed him the last of the cake. It was mostly frosting, this last bite, and John savoured the sweet taste before swallowing. He groaned and spread his legs to allow his stretched belly to sag, wincing as it pulled the skin over his stomach even tighter. 

"Look at you," Sherlock breathed, setting down the fork and laying both his hands on John's tight, distended abdomen. John flinched and let out a shallow breath, wincing as the baby rolled inside him. Sherlock chuckled at the movement and prodded at John's belly. "Not only have you got a full-term baby in there, you've got a whole cake." 

"Oh, god, don't remind me," John moaned, clutching at his stomach. His belly was taut and full and uncomfortable, and John felt tired and lethargic. And aroused, the way Sherlock was looking at him. 

Sherlock gave a half-smile and pressed hard on John's belly, making him jerk forward and yelp. "So full, John. Stuffed absolutely full of my baby and that cake. Can you move?" Sherlock tugged him to his feet, waited for John to catch his balance, and let him go, pendulous belly jutting forward from his body. 

John waddled heavily into the bathroom, hands holding the bottom of his belly as it swayed almost independently in front of him. Sherlock followed, and rubbed John's back as he turned to look in the mirror. "I look…" John croaked, "I look like I've eaten a whole cake." He could see how much the food had expanded his belly, pushing it out uncomfortably far and making the baby squirm. 

"God, I want to fuck you," Sherlock suddenly murmured in his ear, making John shudder and his cock twitch. "Feel your belly so full, so solid." 

John let Sherlock lead him into the bedroom, slowly and lumberingly, and strip him of his too-tight trousers and jumper. He asked John to crawl onto the bed, and John complied, groaning and grunting as his knees and thighs hit his belly with each step forward. Sherlock wanted him on his knees, wanted his belly hanging low and brushing the bed, wanted it to swing with each thrust. When he finally had John spread and open and pushed in, that first long, slow penetration, John shuddered and let out a moan. Sherlock fucked him slow and deep, hands on that big belly at all times, rubbing and prodding and pushing at the solid mass and pulling low keens of discomfort from John. 

But even as the weight of his stomach pulled his back into a curve, made him feel sleepy and heavy, John couldn't deny that he was aroused, and as Sherlock sped up his thrusts John's erect cock started to slap against the bottom of his belly with every push. And when Sherlock started to hit his sweet spot, the pleasure that usually spiked behind his navel spread through the sensitive nerves of the stretched skin covering his stomach, making him see stars as Sherlock rocked him. 

And finally, finally when sweet release hit and John came all across his belly, cock untouched but stomach thoroughly explored, Sherlock took his turn to eat, licking every last trace of his come from John's belly.

The baby rolled in John's belly, the sugar in his system keeping the foetus awake and active, even as John drifted off to sleep. His stomach was still tight and uncomfortable, but as the waves of tiredness that followed the incredible orgasm washed over him he managed to forget the discomfort. Sherlock was a warm, happy, solid body behind him, rubbing his enormous belly as John nodded off. He might regret it in the morning, but for now the reward was sweet as cake. 


End file.
